Roots
by Yi Hsin
Summary: (Chapter 1 up and reposted with improvements, finally!) A Silver Fang raised in the courts of the East searches for his 'roots' after 'coming of age'. However, some of the things about his family might just be better left undisturbed.


The characters Albrecht Morningkill, Mari Cabrah, Evan-Heals-the-Past, and Palmarstan Nayar are owned by White Wolf Publishing Inc.  I do not challenge the copy-right.  Grif Morningkill is a character of a friend.  Cheers! 

Short Messages (or _message_): Thanks to Tremere, Thor, tigerclaw, and Conroy for reviewing. 

Roots Night Poem 

_Before the bed, the moon shines brightly;_

_the__ ground is covered in frost._

_I lift my head to regard the moon; _

_I bow my head to think of home. _

—Li Po

* * *

_Will you remember me?_

Her touch...the taste of her skin...the depth of her eyes...the smell of jasmine and sandalwood... 

_Grif__..._

Brandy colored eyes snapped open in the eerie cold luminance of an autumn moon filtered by the curtains of a window. _Gaia__, why can't I get her out of my mind? It's been nearly twenty years..._ Grif Morningkill rubbed his face with callused hands and sat up, looking at the milky veil of light illuminating his bed. Reaching out, he pulled the thin curtains out of the way of the moon and crawled towards the sill of the low window, gazing at the pale visage Luna graced the world with. He stopped at the glass, his hands pressed against the window panes in silent reverence. 

Had she been there, she would have been stuffing his face full of round pastries, all the while explaining, "This is a moon cake, eaten in honor of the moon during the Autumn Moon Festival. You see?"--she would have broken it in half, revealing the round yellow egg yolk inside--"That's the moon...This one is made out of Lotus paste...or maybe you'd like one with Red Bean paste...That's what most Gaijin like anyways. But you're not any Gaijin...you're _my_ Gaijin..._my _Xiao Lang..." She would have smiled then and proceeded in pulling him into a warm embrace, lips grazing his cheek, his nose, his chin... 

Grif shook his head, quickly clearing the wandering thoughts the night awoke in him. She was gone and she would never be back. But still, he found his arms ached for her gentle caresses and that his ears longed to hear her soft whispers. He turned his face from the window and sighed. _And to think the moon can still bring that rush of blood to my head. _

Hesitantly, he reached for the bottom drawer of the night stand besides him. The drawer slid open and his hand drifted inside. He carefully pulled out a sheer, long red scarf and promptly buried his face within it. It smelled dimly of her, even after two decades... Long ago, that same scarf had been his only comfort after her departure. 

_After she used me...betrayed me...told me she loved me and then played me the fool..._

He threw the scarf away in sudden disgust. If he had had the right mind in the first place, he would have disposed of it...along with everything else that he had not the heart to throw away. Turning away from where the vermilion scarf lay on the hardwood floor, he reclined back into his bed and closed his eyes tiredly. After several minutes of intense thinking about nothing, he rolled over and opened one eye to glance at the pooled cloth on the floor, giving a heaving sigh as he deftly scooped it up in one hand and pulled it under the covers. 

Grif held the scarf to his heart as he drifted back to sleep, somehow content and disheartened at that same time. 

* * *

The morning found Dirk Tien Sa, son of the Lady White, walking slowly into the North Country Caern.  It was a foreign place to him, he who had never seen a caern outside of his own continent of Asia.  The shapechangers (or what he assumed to be shapechangers) were mostly pale-faced and pale-skinned.  His own features, slightly almond shaped eyes, dark brown hair, and not-white-enough-to-be-called-white skin, were quite a contrast.  He could feel the others lift their gaze to give him an appraising look; he wore the Blood Red Crest glyph like a talisman.  But then he thought, _Aren't I just as much wolf and Silver Fang as the rest of them?  What do I have to fear from their judgment?_  And most of the uncertainty melted away. 

He had just turned twenty-one last month.  His mother had decided that it was time for him and his sister to experience the other world of diplomacy and culture.  Never mind her incentives, he was nevertheless excited at the new found freedom and chance for exploration.  It would give him more time to explore his roots (those from his father at least) and find out just who he was.  When he was little, he could remember those times when he witnessed, with a bit of envy, other children with their complete families: one father, one mother, and sisters and brothers.  From as far back as his mind's eye could see, it had always been his mother, his sister, and him.  Whenever he brought up the subject of his own father however, his mother would always pretend not to hear or burst into tears.  It was a strange mixture of reactions, from one extreme to the next.  But she had finally told him not to pursue the matter and he had left it unspoken for the last five years of his life.  Now he would have his chance to tie up the undone ends. 

"Hey there, tall-dark-and-handsome.  What's your business here?" 

Dirk snapped out of his quiet reverie and looked franticly around for the source of the voice. 

"Behind you." 

He spun around startled and saw a slim, strawberry-blonde haired woman standing there with her hands on her hips.  His jaw dropped slightly Sparkly violet eyes seemed to glitter back at him. 

"I was only joking about the 'tall-dark-and-handsome' part." 

"Uh…I-I-I'd like to see King Albrecht." 

The woman arched an eyebrow and laughed a bit. "Just like that?  Do you have an appointment?" 

Dirk's face fell and he said, "Appointment?  I need an appointment?  I didn't know that…How do I get one?" 

"Quit playing with the poor boy, Merv.  His brains are probably quite addled by now."  A man wiping the blade of a klaive stepped forward towards the two. He was youngish looking, with a few white hairs streaking his otherwise dark-brown hair.  "The name is Grif Morningkill.  That's Mervette.  Who are you?" 

"D-d-irk Tien S-sa…I was sent by Palmarstan Nayar to uh…uh…learn about Western Silver Fang society…yeah.  I'm a Silver Fang."  Dirk nodded unconsciously and cursed silently for making a fool of himself…blabbing all those things out without a second thought…   Oh, he wished his sister was there besides him right now, his pillar of strength. 

The older man chuckled at the younger Fang's stuttering words. It wasn't too long ago that Grif himself had been in the same position as the youth before him. "So, Mr. Sa, you've urgent business with the King?"

Dirk nodded again. This time a bit more confident in his bearing. "Yes, I do...well, not _so_ urgent. But, I'd still like to speak with him."

"Anxious to learn?" said Mervette. She smiled and waved a hand towards him as she walked away. "Not a lot of youngsters like that today...And I think you'll find his _King_-ship observing the sparring matches out on the field. If you'll come with me?"

Grif shook his head in exasperation and made to prod Dirk with the klaive in his hands. "Onward, eager pup." he said.

Dirk knitted his brow in slight confusion and followed the two away wordlessly.

* * *

_Cockle-doodle-doo! Cuckoo! Cockle-doodle-doo! Cuckoo!_

"SHUT UP!"

_Cockle-doodle-do--_CRACK!--_Good Morning!_

"...stupid chicken-clock...What time...? _Aiya__!_ Eleven o'clock?! Dirk!"

The curtains were draw, but the insistent rays of an already risen sun poked through the cracks, reminding Helene Meng Lei that she had indeed slept in.  She sat up and yawned, stretching out her arms and surveyed the room.  The walls were bare and had an obvious lack of décor.  She would have to do something about that later.  Throwing on a heavy brocade robe over her nightgown, she stepped into the kitchen.  "Dirk?  Dirk! Why didn't you wake me up?  It's so late…"  Pausing, she realized that there was no one there in the room and she irritably stalked to the stove to boil water.  Tapped to the top of the teapot was a note. 

_Mei_, 

                Get some sleep.   I'm going to that dragon nest _Ayi_told us about.  (Don't be mad…directions are on the fridge.  You can come if you want.) 

Luv, 

Dirk 

P.S.  Bring some sandwiches if you come, please! 

Helene crumpled up the note in her balled fist and sighed.  He was so bad at these diplomatic overtures.  Why hadn't he waken her up?  She tossed her hair and yawned again. _Well, I am tired…_  Leaving the kitchen, she walked back into her room and changed out of the comfortably warm robe.  She stood in front of the mirror combing out her hair and watched her brow furrow as she struggled against a knot. 

_Dirk_. 

Her poor brother.  Always the one to rush into things.  _His stupid habit is to provoke and then observe._  She sighed.  _So foolhardy._   

They were twins.  So alike, yet, so different.  They were brother and sister in everything.  In everything… But he had been born favored of the Lady Luna, while she…she had been born just to watch and assist at the side. 

She sighed again. 

Setting down the brush, she slowly braided her hair into two neat plaits down both sides of her head. Was it really unfair? After all, she had her own gifts from the Celestes, though it was hard to tell where the curses ended and the blessing began. Helene laughed darkly to herself and picked up the picture staring at her from the table. Five happy, smiling youths seemed to wave to her from within the frame: 

A raven haired girl strangling a spiky-haired youth (whose expensive-looking sunglasses half-dangled from his face.) _Xiao__ Ling and Sho..._ And then there were the other three. Her brother Dirk had an impish look on his face as he gave both Sho, who was on his left, and the other youth on his right, bunny ears from behind. The other boy had been completely oblivious to Dirk's prank as he himself had been preoccupied with attempts to tickle the squirming girl in his arms. That girl had been herself, and the boy had been Ryosuke Akiyama..._Ryosuke_.

He was no longer the light-hearted boy shown in the picture; in truth, none of them were. The burdens of age, tribe, and court had all but erased their once sunny outlook on life.

She shook her head and gazed at the reflection in the mirror. A girl (no, a young woman), looked back at her intently. She had mahogany colored plaits, long eye-lashes of the same color, and eyes the color of well-aged brandy. All that including a mouth that hardly smiled anymore. _It's not like we have anything to be happy about._ Indeed, the Palmarstan had sent them to the city of New York to find their biological father; but there were more serious matters lying beneath that. Matters the Palmarstan had chosen only to tell the more level-headed of the pair. 

_Tell your brother after speaking with the Court_, he had said. _He needn't divert attention unless it is necessary. _She had nodded her head and bowed to his request. He looked somewhat sad she remembered.

Shaking her head again, Helene put the picture down gently and turned from the mirror. She walked back the the kitchen and dug out bread other food items from the refrigerator. Removing the lettuce from it's plastic bag, she began violently chopping into it with a large knife.

Every slice sounded like the executioner's blade falling onto the neck of its victim. She winced as she cut deeply into a finger by accident. A drop of crimson blood welled at the wound.

_Crimson like poppies.__ Poppies vermilion like the dragon that represented her Court. The dragon red like the Blood Red Crest. Red like the blood yet to be spilled..._

She let out a ragged breath and watched as the drop became a tiny stream that trickled down her finger to the knife.

* * *

Several thousand miles away, on an estate tucked away in a forest preserve on the island of Taiwan (which also doubled as one of the three major Dragon Nests on the island), a minor dispute had arisen. A white robed figure could be seen sweeping down the corridors to an open courtyard where a silver-furred were-wolf was practicing a series of deep sweeps and thrusts with a curved-edged klaive in the cool night air. The figure stopped at one side and dismissed the various attendants with a wave of an arm. The were-wolf stopped at that motion and turned to face the white-robed figure. It seemed to raise an eyebrow in curious query. 

The figure raised a slim hand to the veil covering its head and pulled it away, revealing the visage of a frustrated looking Chinese woman. The woman opened her mouth to unleash a fast string of angry sounding Mandarin. "What is the meaning of this?" She waved a limp piece of paper in the air. "I received this, this morning..." The were-wolf shrugged nonchalantly and turned away a bit too quickly. The woman did not seem too impressed as she rounded on it, forcing the Garou to face her. 

"Don't you look away. I know you had a hand in this. You had them deliberately disobey me...go against _my _wishes! I gave them permission to travel to San Francisco. _San Francisco__!_ _Not __New York__!_' 

A deep rumble could be heard from within the towering were-wolf as it shrunk in size to the shape of a middle-aged man. The man brushed back a tousled lock of dark brown hair and shrugged again. He answered in a somewhat subdued tone of the same Mandarin. "I found more suitable emissaries to send to the Western Gate. Xiao Ling wished to see her aunt, and Mr. Higashi and Mr. Akiyama volunteered to go with her. It does not matter, does it?" 

"Of course it matters! _He _is there! You of all people should know that...!" The woman's voice raised to a near shriek. "Have I not atoned enough that you would bring even more reminders of my sins down on my head?" Two pink patches appeared on either side of her face from the exertion. 

The man calmly walked to the wall behind them and set the klaive on one of the black-lacquered racks. "Lower your voice, _woman_. You forget your place, Lady White." He turned back around to face her. "A towel, if you please." 

The Lady White narrowed her eyes, but otherwise held her tongue. She stalked to the side and picked up the white terry-cloth towel sitting on a bench. Throwing it back at the man, she leaned against a pillar and twisted a piece of her white robe in her hands. 

"I respect your wishes, Lady. But in the matters of the Court, I will have final say." The man paused a moment to wipe sweat from his forehead with the towel and regarded her carefully. "As his king, I also have final say over what he does--what _they_ do--pertaining tribal matters. And sadly to say, I also know that he does not belong in this House. He can do greater things in the House of his father...we both know that." 

"You..." 

The man raised his hand. "_You_ are running from a past that is nearly twenty years old. What good has it done? What good will it do your children if they continue to feel unrooted and not belonging? I've done what I can to replace the paternal side of their upbringing...but sorry to say, Dirk still feels alienated from this world and _you_ every time you deny him his right to know about his sire." 

"How dare you assume that I am running! I...I..." She faltered and looked to the ground miserably. "Have I not seen to it that they have been raised to be the best that they can be? What more does the Emerald Mother request? Indeed Palmarstan, you have been more a father to them then I could have hoped. I am grateful to that. But they are safe and more happy in ignorance. What they find out will create..." 

"_Bai__ Niang Niang_, you say that you do not run. But evidence would point otherwise. You have denied every last piece of yourself these nineteen years. Don't spurn it any longer. You've paid for your sins and the Celestes have given you reason to be proud of the fruit of those same sins." 

The White Lady looked up at the king's words and nodded. "I am proud. Too proud in fact. They have been my salvation." 

"Then, let that salvation save you from the rest of your demons. Dirk and Helene will find out one way or another. One is your 'slayer from above'; the other is the 'tears you shed in your dreams.' Consider it, at least." Palmarstan Nayar reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. Lady White looked at it for a moment before replying.

"_Hao__._I will consider it."

Nodding, the Palmarstan placed a hand in the small of her back and ushered her out of the courtyard and down a corridor. "Their hearts will be at rest."

"If you say so." Lady White intoned in a doubtful voice. She stared in the direction they were headed as they walked past sparring groups, embroidery groups, tutoring groups, and music groups. This estate, home to the Vermilion Dragon Court and the Blue Mountain sect of _Eu__ Mae _nuns, had long been her sanctuary. _Sanctuary against everything outside._ She mused silently, her face betraying none of her thoughts. Here she was the Revered Lady White and Greater Sifu to more than fifty _Eu__ Mae_ masters and novices. To the Silver Fang House, she was Kinfolk Ambassador to the Emerald Courts and mother to the Twin Stars.

But truly she was...

"Ah, look." The Garou king had lifted a finger and was pointing towards the eastern bend of the corridor.

Lady White paused and turned her head to where her companion pointed. A flustered red-faced boy was running through the corridors towards them. As the boy skidded to a stop before them, Nayar said, "Deep breath, child." The boy nodded quickly and inhaled sharply, preparing to speak.

"IgreetyouPalmarstandNayarandLadyWhiteTheRegentwishestospeaktoyouItisofutmostimportance..."

The two elders looked to each other and then to the boy. Lady White leaned down and patted the boy's head as the Palmarstan fished for a sweet from his pocket. Finding one, he pressed it into the youngster's hand. "We'll be there, directly. The Peony Room?"

The boy nodded, accepting the candy and bowing from the waist. Lady White smiled. She said, "All right then, you may run along now." and the boy skipped past them, clutching the foil wrapped piece of sugar.

"Gaia, the energy the young ones possess these days..." The Palmarstan shook his head in exaggerated amazement.

Lady White laughed.

* * *

The sound of grunting and grating could be heard as Dirk followed his two guides, Grif and Mervette, to the King. Looking around, he found a grass covered field, surrounded by towering evergreens, that smelled of wildflowers and conifers. There were groups scattered across the green and yells and whoops resonated through the air. A tall man stood in the midst of all this. 

As far as Dirk could tell, the man did not look any different than the others present on the field; save for the silver circlet that encircled his head. His long white hair was pulled back by a leather thong, and he wore a worn pair of jeans and a nondescript shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves...on arms that looked quite muscled and well in shape. When the man turned to meet their approach, Dirk could see that the man's face carried a heavy scar across one eye and that his gaze commanded an immediate response of respect from him; it had the same effect as the Palmarstan. Dirk could almost feel the years of experience and strife that seemed to radiate off of the man.

The man raised an eyebrow and Grif stepped quickly to his side. "May I present to you, a young traveler named Dirk Tien Sa from House Blood Red Crest out to see the world." He gestured to the younger man standing before them. "And Mr. Sa, this is King Albrecht Morningkill of House Wyrmfoe."

"Bai, actually. My given name is Bai." Dirk managed a nervous half-grin.

King Albrecht looked at Grif and gave him a stern look, but was betrayed by the mischievous twinkle that showed in his eyes. "Never one to ask for _all _the information, are you?" 

Grif shrugged and glanced away saying, "Oops." Bringing his attention back to Dirk, Albrecht nodded his head. "Well then, Mr. _Bai_, what brings you to the North Country Caern and House Wyrmfoe? As you can probably see, we are in a rather informal setting. So you may as well dispense with the formalities."

A wry smile crossed Dirk's face. "Of course. I'm here to learn whatever you and yours are willing to teach...but mainly, as Pamarstan Nayar has informed me that you may have much information to share, to find my father."

"Really?" Albrecht blinked as he slowly digested the young Silver Fang's words. "He said that?..." He made a mental note to question the other king in a letter later. "Huh..." Dirk knitted his brow slightly in consternation at the king's reaction. _Maybe I shouldn't have been so straight forward?_

Mervette, who had up to this point stayed silent, noticed the rather terse looks on the three garou and cleared her throat. The king had had a thoughtful look on his face, while Grif had looked as though he had just seen a ghost of some sort. Dirk on the other hand, looked just about ready to melt into the ground from whatever emotions he was feeling. "Why don't we discuss this over some food later, maybe tonight?...Our young guest looks as though he could use some distractions after an obvious long trip from home. Perhaps a first glance at our martial traditions would interest him?" She smiled obligingly.

Taking note of the sugary smile on Mervette's lips, Albrecht nudged Grif with a foot as Dirk's attention was momentarily diverted to the woman's words. Grif started and nodded quickly. "That's a good idea."

"Ahroun, right?" Mervette said, her smile widening as she saw surprise written across the facial expressions of the young Fang. His head turned slightly in what she took as a question. She laughed at that. "I'm a crinkly old hag and have seen a great many things. A good hunk of beefcake is not the hardest thing to spot in the horizon." Albrecht and Grif sniffed indignantly at her comment. "Oh, I forgot...I'm not just in the presence of one beefcake, but THREE..."

Dirk had to chuckle at the crack and watched as a flush of red crept up from the necklines of the other werewolves.

"That will be enough, Miss Mervette--"

"You're not crinkly--"

"--and you are not a hag--"

"--I'm not beefcake--"

"--And why don't you go--"

"--so don't call me one--"

"Why don't you shut-up before both of you become the blithering old fools that you really are?" An extremely acidic voice cut through the babbling as a grim-looking Latino woman strode up to the group.

"Hi Mari! You look cheerful today!...Mari's a Black Fury, Dirk." Mervette gave an ecstatic wave towards the Black Fury. Mari snorted. "Who's this?" She jerked a thumb in Dirk's direction.

Dirk looked in fascination at the woman called Mari. He had heard of the Western tribe called the Black Furies, but had never seen one before. Mari glared at his unabashed scrutiny. "See something you don't like, boy?" 

Mervette grabbed both Dirk and Grif by their sleeves and shoved them towards a dueling pair off to the sides before the younger garou could say anything back to the Fury who was evidently on the warpath. "Heeeey! There's Andy and Terry! They're reeaally good with klaives...why don't you start by stopping over there, Grif? Dirk will probably find them reeaal interesting..." She waved ecstatically, again, to the departing duo and turned her back on them. 

Leaving, albeit with a little reluctance, Grif and Dirk walked off and left the others behind; Dirk bearing another look of confusion.

* * *

"What was that about? I have never, in my whole life, met such a..." Mari Cabrah stood stiffly and clenched her fist tightly. Albrecht Morningkill chuckled good-naturedly.

"I thought I was..."

"Shut-up."

Mervette sighed tiredly and watched the two go at it for a few moments before breaking in. "He's looking for his sire, Mari. Any ideas?"

The Black Fury stopped and grimaced. "His father? What is he?...MIA? Run off with some other..."

"Not every male is unreliable, Mari." The Silver Fang king shook his head. "He's from Blood Red Crest...and the Eastern Courts, I'm guessing. He said that Nayar told him that I had information pertaining his identification." He turned to look at the twosome at the western end of the field. "Do you think..."

"No." Mari said flatly. "Couldn't be. There was more than one incident that year..._he_ was still here and Gaia knows how many episodes he was responsible for. Besides, the boy is hardly a Metis...so deduction should tell as the answer to your query should be a 'No'."

"You don't sound too confident with that 'should', Mari."

"What do I look like to you? A mid-wife? No one really knows what would come of a...union...like that."

"Then it's open to debate."

Mari nodded slowly. "One can't be sure..." Albrecht looked at her questioningly. 

"Nothing came of it...? She never said anything...I'd always presumed that they took some sort of precaution...though the break-up was somewhat suspicious..." The king shifted uncomfortably. Mervette glanced at him. "At any rate, we never heard from her again."

"The treatise was made partially due to their proximity. It fell through afterwards, didn't it?", said Mervette. "It's really a pity...We could have done much with a permanent alliance."

Albrecht grunted. "You see everything through amber spyglasses, don't you Merv?"

"Would you have expected anything less from a Child of Gaia? And a Galliard no less...", added Mari. The said Galliard wrinkled her nose at the other two.

"The 'could have been' would have been great."

The Fang and Fury snorted in harmony and Albrecht turned to Mari to question her one last time. "You're sure you have no other ideas whatsoever? Absolutely sure?" Albrecht looked at her intently.

"I...", Mari started then paused to think. "I'm out of ideas. What you propose has some possibility...but not overly so." She frowned slightly. "I think we should find out more about the mother before jumping to any more conclusions."

The other two nodded silently and they turned to watch the young newcomer.

* * *

_Thump!_

A gray and silver were-wolf in Crinos form collided unceremoniously with a large tree trunk. It sat up with some chagrin and shifted gingerly in its position. _Good, nothing's broken..._ It continued to sit up against the tree holding its sides and exhaling in small, sharp breaths. _Sooo__ stupid.__ Shouldn't have accepted the challenge...me and my ego...Thank the Mother Mei isn't here to see me like this..._

As the breathless were-wolf sat, another approached it, clapping its hands and shifting back to the shape of a human. As soon as his massive silvery Crinos was gone, the man (who could now be identified as a tousled-haired Grif Morningkill) had barely broken a sweat. "Well done. I suppose we really can't call you pup, can we Mr. Bai?"

The sitting garou grunted and shifted from his half-wolf form. After shifting back, a disgruntled Dirk attempted a half-grin. "Dirk, Mr. Morningkill. After that little expose, I don't think I deserve an ounce of respect from anyone."

"Make it Grif then." The standing man squatted and extended a hand. Dirk grasped it firmly before letting go and nodded wordlessly. "Considering I've had two decades worth of perfecting the art, I think you did pretty well. How long have you been studying Kailindo?"

Dirk rubbed his sore arms a bit before replying. "Six years. My mother insisted I start right after my First Change. She wouldn't let me give up any of the other martial arts I was studying at the time either..." He reached up and pulled his sweat soaked t-shirt up over his head. Wiping his brow with it, he tossed it aside. An autumn breeze blew a cool breeze across his body and he relaxed a bit.

Grif raised an eyebrow at what he saw. Etched over the younger man's body in bright inks were two large tattoos of a snarling wolf and tiger. A shadow crossed his mind but he pushed it away hastily, not thinking anymore of the spectre. The wolf seemed to crouch in a menacing position covering the upper right part of his chest and snap down his upper right arm with a mouth full of sharp teeth. The tiger on the other hand curled from around his lower left at his abdomen, the tail wrapping around to the back, to an roar escaping from its open mouth that covered his heart. It was a inked in black lines and orange. "Very interesting body art, Dirk."

"Ah, these?" Dirk gestured to his upper torso. "_Niang_, I mean mother, insisted upon these as well."

"Any specific reason?"

Dirk shrugged. "I never asked. When Mother says something, we just nod our head 'yes' and do it, no questions asked."

"We?"

"My sister. She always said that they meant..._Aiya__!! Zhou la!!"_ Dirk scrambled up ignoring his complaining muscles. "Mei's gonna kill me!"

Grif knitted his brow and looked a little befuddled. "She is Garou also?"

"No, she isn't. But she can still kick my ass...What time is it?"

"About time for me to kick your ass, dearest brother." a voice intoned sweetly. Dirk jumped at the sound and cringed apologetically.

"I'm sorry..?"

"Won't cut it... First, you don't wake me up to come here, second, you didn't tell them about me (I spent a good part of an hour playing '20 questions' before they'd let me in here.) and third, I bring sandwiches that I seriously do not believe you deserve." The voice then broke into a long string of extremely caustic Cantonese syllables, that caused Dirk to duck his head even lower.

Grif watched with amusement at first. Then, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise as he turned to see the owner of the voice. 

With hand extended, King Albrecht Morningkill was guiding a dark-haired young woman towards them.

He sucked in a breath sharply.

The long ebony hair.

The slight figure.

_The same cat-like sway of hips._

_It's her._

_She's here._

_And you love her._

_Still._

The shadow that he had hastily pushed aside before when he first saw the inked tiger crashed mercilessly in waves against his mind's eye now, as unbidden memories dug themselves up from self-tombed graves.

* * *

**Notes**

*Takes a deep breath* Hey...It's actually coming together! *cheers!*

I was a good author and finally wrote more! I patched up a bit and maybe now there is some more cohesion?

Comment away.


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